Sun-fhine and rain at once:-her fmiles and tears (22)
Were like a wetter May. Thofe happiest smiles,
That play'd on her ripe lip, feem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropt.-In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most belov❜d,

If all could fo become it.

Kent. Made the no verbal queftion ?

Gent. Yes, once, or twice, the heav'd the name of Father Pantingly forth, as if it preft her heart.

Cry'd, fifters! fifters!

-Shame of ladies! fifters!

Kent! Father! Sifters ! what? i'th' ftorm? i'th night ? Let pity ne'er believe it!-there she shook

The holy water from her heav'nly eyes;

And, clamour-motion'd, then away fhe started (23)
To deal with grief alone.

Kent,

-It is the ftars,

The ftars above us, govern our conditions :
Elfe one felf-mate and mate could not beget

(22)

-ber Smiles and Tears

Were like a better day.] Mr. Pope, who thought fit to restore this Scene from the old Quarto, tacitly funk this Paffage upon us, because he did not underftand it. Indeed, it is corrupt; and he might have done himself some Honour in attempting the Cure; but Rhyme and Criticifm, he has convinced us, do not always center in the fame Perfon. My friend Mr. Warburton with very happy Sagacity ftruck out the Emendation, which I have inferted in the Text.

(23) And clamour-moiften'd,] This Paffage, again, Mr Pope funk upon us, and for the fame Reafön, I fuppefe. Mr. Warburton difcovered likewife, that this was corrupt: for tho' Clamour, (as he obferves,) may diftort the Mouth, it is not wont to moiften the Eyes. But clamour-motion'd conveys a very beautiful Idea of Grief in Cordelia, and exactly in Character. She bore her Grief hitherto, fays the Relater, in Silence; but being no longer able to contain it, and wanting to vent it in Groans and Cries, the flies away and retires to her Clofet to deal with it in private. This he finely calls, Clamourmotion'd; or provoked to a loud Expreffion of her Sorrow, which drives her from Company!. -It is not impoffible, but Shakespeare might have formed this fine Picture of Cordelia's Agony from Holy Writ, in the Conduct of Jofeph; who, being no longer able to restrain the Vehemence of his Affection, commanded all his Retinue from his Prefence; and then wept aloud, and difcover'd himself to his Brethren.

D3

Such

Such diff'rent iffues. Spoke you with her fince ?
Gent. No.

Kent. Was this before the King return'd?

Gent. No, fince.

Kent. Well, Sir; the poor diftreffed Lear's in town; Who fometimes, in his better tune, remembers

What we are come about; and by no means
Will yield to fee his daughter.

Gent. Why, good Sir?

Kent. A fov'reign fhame fo bows him; his unkindnefs,
That ftript her from his benediction, turn'd her
To foreign cafualties, gave her dear rights

To his dog-hearted daughters; thefe things fting him
So venomoufly, that burning fhame detains him.
From his Cordelia.

Gent. Alack, poor gentleman!

Kent. Of Albany's, and Cornwall's pow'rs you heard not? Gent. 'Tis fo, they are a-foot.

Kent. Well, Sir; I'll bring you to our master Lear, And leave you to attend him.

Some dear caufe

Will in concealment wrap me up awhile:

When I am known aright, you shall not grieve Lending me this acquaintance. Pray, along with me.

SCENE, a CAMP.

Enter Cordelia, Phyfician, and Soldiers.

A

[Exeunt.

Cor. Lack, 'tis he; why, he was met ev'n now As mad as the vext fea; finging aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiterr, and furrow-weeds, (24)

With

(24) Crown'd with rank Fenitar:] There is no fuch Herb, or Weed, that I can find, of English Growth; though all the Copies agree in the Corruption. I dare fay, I have reftor'd its right Name; and we meet with it again in our Author's Henry V. and partly in the fame Company as we have it here;

her fallow Leas

The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory
Do root upon.

For

With hardocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow

In our fuftaining corn.

Send forth a cent❜ry;

Search every acre in the high-grown field,

And bring him to our eye. What can man's Wisdom
In the reftoring his bereaved fenfe,

He, that helps him, take all my outward worth.
Phyf. There are means, Madam:

Our fofter nurfe of nature is repofe ;

The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
Are many fimples operative, whose power
Will clofe the eye of anguish.

Cor. All bleft fecrets,

All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
Spring with my tears; be aidant, and remediate
In the good man's diftrefs! feek, feek for him ;
Left his ungovern'd rage diffolve the life,
That wants the means to lead it.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. News, Madam:

The British Powr's are marching hitherward.
Cor. 'Tis known before. Our preparation stands

In expectation of them. O dear father,

It is thy business that I go about: therefore great France
My mourning and important tears hath pitied.

No blown ambition doth our arms incite,

But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right:
Soon may I hear, and fee him!

Exeunt.

For this Weed is called both Fumitory and Fumiterr, nearer to the French Derivation Fume-terre: which the Latin Shopmen term Fumaria. I obferve, in Chaucer it is written Femetere; by a Cor ruption either of the Scribe, or of vulgar Pronunciation; if of the latter, it might from thence eafily flide, in progrefs of time, into Fenitar.

SCENE, Regan's PALACE.

BUT

Enter Regan, and Steward.

Reg.DUT are my Brother's powers fet forth
Steru. Ay, Madam..

Reg. Himfelf in perfon there ?

Stew. With much ado.

Your fifter is the better foldier.

Reg. Lord Edmund fpake not with your lady at home Stew. No, Madam.

Reg. What might import my fifter's letter to him? Stew. I know not, lady.

Reg. 'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. It was great ign'rance, Glo'fter's eyes being out, To let him live: where he arrives, he moves All hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone, In pity of his mifery, to dispatch

His nighted life: moreover, to defcry

The ftrength o'th' enemy.

letter.

Stew. I muft needs after him, Madam, with my
Reg. Our troops fet forth to-morrow: ftay with us

The ways are dangerous.

Stew. I may not, Madam;

My lady charg❜d my duty in this business.

Reg. Why should the write to Edmund? might not you Transport her purposes by word? belike,

Something-I know not what-I'll love thee muchLet me unfeal the letter.

Stew. Madam, I had rather

Reg. I know, your lady does not love her husband :
I'm fure of that; and, at her late being here,
She gave ftrange ciliads, and moft fpeaking looks
To noble Edmund. I know, you're of her bofom.
Stew. I, Madam ?

Reg. I fpeak in understanding: you are; I know't;
Therefore, I do advise you, take this note.
My Lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd,
And more convenient is he for my hand,

Than

Than for your lady's: you may gather more:
If you do find him, pray you, give him this;
And when your Miftrefs hears thus much from you,
I pray, defire her call her wifdom to her. So farewel.
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.

Stew. 'Would I could meet him, Madam, I should fhew What party I do follow.

Reg. Fare thee well.

Glo.

[Exeunt

SCENE, the Country, near Dover.

Enter Glo'fter, and Edgar as a Peafant..

W

Hen fhall I come to th' top of that fame hill? Edg. You do climb up it now. Look, how we labour.

Glo. Methinks, the ground is even.

Edg. Horrible steep.

Hark, do you hear the sea?

Glo. No, truly.

Edg. Why then your other fenfes grow imperfect By your eyes' anguish.

Glo. So may it be, indeed.

Methinks, thy voice is alter'd; and thou fpeak'ft
In better phrase and matter than thou didst.

Edg. You're much deceiv'd: in nothing am I chang❜d, But in my garments.

Glo. Sure, you're better spoken.

Edg. Come on, Sir, here's the place-ftand ftill. How fearful

And dizzy 'tis, to caft one's eyes fo low!

The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air,
Shew scarce fo grofs as beetles. Half way down
Hangs one, that gathers Samphire; dreadful trade!
Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head.
The fisher-men, that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice, and yond tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
D 5

Almoft